


Kreacher Serves

by NickieSays



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NickieSays/pseuds/NickieSays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the one we serve is not the one we would have chosen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kreacher Serves

**Author's Note:**

> I have no beta so please be gentle. My heart is good even if my grammar is not.

Kreacher could hear her the children laughing and squealing at the table while they had their tea and played games. Not long ago he would have hated the noise and balked at the idea he would actually be making them lemon cakes. 

When Sirius feel through the Veil, he’d been standing at his Mistress’s portrait, polishing the nameplate and muttering about the Blood Traitors in the house. 

All of a sudden he felt like he was dying. For a split second he maybe was. He felt like his heart was being wrenched out of his chest by red hot pincers. Then he knew. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was done, the direct line anyways as there were the girls still out there. He thought he would feel justified about Master Sirius dying but it was a hollow, bitter victory. Caring for an empty house while a painting of a mad women raved and screamed at shadows. Master Sirius was not kind to him but he was a Black and now he was no more. It was awful.

He knew in the slip of time between one breath and the next, he was truly and utterly alone.  
And oh how it hurt and he went to his knees and wept. Hours he laid there while feeling like a balloon with no string. 

Then the house felt odd around him. Full of air but not being able to draw it in. A low whooshing noise filled the house and then a flashing purple light rippled the entire structure, foundation to eaves. Washed in purple it was and a sight to behold. He stood there dumbstruck and his sobs quited as ownership of Number 12 Grimauld Place passed from The Blacks to Harry Potter. The boy would not be the Master he would have chosen for himself, if elves actually did such a thing, but he would serve him faithfully the rest of his days.

Not that he wasn't batty as all get out and muttered to no one most of the time but he served and served well. He was still pretty rude to the Mudblood but he couldn't change over in an instant. She left him sherbet lemons in his cubbyhole and he ate them while grumbling about people not knowing their places. Then he made her strawberry shortcake special one night just the same.

No, this wasn’t wasn’t the life he would have chosen but it was his now and that was ok.


End file.
